Coming together
by lady-nocturne-numb3rs
Summary: What if Charlie and Amita's first date had gone well? Chapter 6 final chapter is up. Sorry guys, I just don't know if I'm going to finish this one. If I do, I'll post it as a new story.
1. Chapter 1

What if that first date between Charlie and Amita had gone well?

My first ever fic! **PLEASE REVIEW!**

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The conversation was going nowhere at a breakneck speed. Charlie and Amita alternately looked at each other and looked away, both feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable. To say the least, it was awkward.

"Look," Amita said, "this is stupid. I'm going to get up, go to the little girls' room, and when I come back we're going to talk about work as much as we want." She rose, smiled at Charlie, and walked past him. Charlie swallowed hard and looked down at his plate.

Amita returned, sat back down, and smiled at Charlie. "So," she asked, "what's the deal with the broccoli again?" Charlie met her eyes and grinned, then looked down at the broccoli and held it out toward her.

"You see, it's like this…"

The waiter discreetly set the check down next to Charlie, animatedly in conversation with Amita over Larry's supergravitational theory. The conversation hit a lull, and Charlie leaned back in his chair and opened the bill.

Amita looked at him and smiled. "You know," she said, "I've had a wonderful time this evening. Thank you, Charlie." Charlie looked up from the bill and met Amita's gaze, and they spent a long minute staring at each other.

As they watched each other, Amita reached across the table and took Charlie's hand and intertwined it with hers. He looked down at their linked hands, and with his thumb, he slowly caressed the side of her hand.

When he looked up at her face, he saw her still watching him intently. Abruptly he stood up, pulling her with him. He slid his wallet from his pocket, pulled some cash out, and dropped it on the table.

"Let's go," he said, linking his hands with hers.

"Where are we headed?" she asked him, smiling. He looked at her speculatively, then answered, "I thought we'd go back to my house and contemplate the koi pond, if that's ok with you."

Alan was working on a crossword puzzle in his favorite chair when the front door opened. Without bothering to turn around, he called a greeting to Charlie. Then, remembering where Charlie had been, he looked up in time to see Charlie and Amita disappear into the kitchen. He started to get up to say hi to the couple, then thought better of it and sat back down in his chair and grinned to himself.

Charlie opened the pantry and took out a bottle of wine, popped the cork, then pulled two wineglasses out of the cupboard and with a flourish presented them to Amita, who smiled back at him. Then she opened the back door and headed outside, plopping down unceremoniously on the lawn next to the pond.

Charlie followed her, but instead of sitting down, he stopped and looked down at her. When he didn't sit down, she looked up at him curiously. He was looking at her with a serious expression on his face, his eyes huge and shining in the moonlight.

Reaching down, Charlie touched her hair gently, then, with his hand cupping her face, sat down next to her and pulled her in toward him. Wordlessly, they stared at each other intently as they drew closer. Amita's lips curved as she put her hand to the side of Charlie's face and rubbed her thumb in a circular pattern on his stubble.

"Scratchy," she murmured teasingly, their mouths not quite touching. Her warm breath tickled Charlie's lips, and his fingers tightened involuntarily in her hair as he drew her in. Their mouths met, and their eyes remained open and locked on each other as they kissed, first tentatively, then with increasing ardor.

Amita leaned back and drew Charlie into her, one of his hands lost in her hair, the other moving around to support her. One of her hands was braced behind her to keep her upright, the other one stroked his face gently as they kissed.

Eventually, they had to come up for air, and as they pulled back and stared at each other, Amita giggled quietly at the eager and unsatisfied look on Charlie's face. Charlie raised his eyebrows and started to laugh quietly too, then leaned forward and stopped their laughter with another hungry kiss. Then he stopped and closed his eyes.

"So now what?" Amita whispered into Charlie's open mouth. He sat up abruptly and looked down at her, serious once again.

"A-Amita," he stuttered, "I-I don't—" He broke off, looking at her uncertainly. Amita smiled up at him.

"Relax, Charlie," she soothed, reaching up to stroke his face again. "I'm not trying to push you on anything… even though it did take you this long to ask me out on a date," she teased. Charlie's shoulders slumped a bit, and his serious look softened.

"Amita…" He paused, looking for the right words, wishing for once he had a gift with that medium instead of numbers. "Amita, I… You are the most beautiful and incredible woman I've ever known. I… I'm…"

Amita watched him patiently, remaining quiet and letting him take his time as he struggled with what to say. She'd never seen him so much at a loss for words before. Finally he spoke, reaching to stroke her hair again.

"I'm sorry I waited so long to do this. I've wanted you for so long, and I— I just don't want to screw this up. You are— you are so important to me. And I want to do this right."

Amita grinned up at him and laughed. "You're doing great so far. So don't stop." She put both arms around his neck and pulled him back down to her. Off-balance, he fell forward onto her, pushing her backwards onto the lawn with him halfway on top of her. He froze, then started to scramble up, but she held him in place and kissed him gently.

"Stop thinking," she ordered him with a smile on her face. Charlie complied, and groaned as she kissed him deeply, her hands running up and down his back. With one hand, he propped himself up above her, caressing her hair gently with the other.

Slowly his hand moved down, touching her face, cradling her neck, stroking her shoulder, and then skimming down her side, barely touching the side of her breast. She moaned as his hand slid past that sensitive curve, and captured his hand with one of hers and placed it firmly on her left breast.

"Feel how fast my heart is beating," she breathed into his mouth. His hand cupped her breast gently, his thumb caressing her erect nipple through her blouse.

"Do you know that the human heart beats—" he started. Amita giggled and bit him gently on the bottom lip.

"Stop that," she scolded him. He jerked his hand away like he'd been burned.

"Sorry," he said, beginning to slide off of her guiltily.

"No, stop THINKING and keep DOING." She grabbed his hand and placed it back on her breast, holding it there, sliding her other hand around to gently knead his butt, pulling him closer.

After a few more minutes, they came up for breath, and Charlie sat up again, pulling Amita up with him, all uncertainty gone. "Amita, I want you. I want to be around you and I want to be with you, but I want to do this right. I want to make it perfect for you. For us. And I'm not ready for that yet. Tonight. But I want you, and only you. Do you understand?"

Amita smiled at him, leaning forward to softly kiss him on the lips. "I understand perfectly. I want you too. But you definitely aren't ready for more today."

Charlie raised his eyebrows and a wounded look came onto his face. "What do you mean that I'm not ready?"

Amita reached out and stroked his face, smiling softly. "Before next time, you need to shave. The scruffy look is only sexy in the movies. In real life, it's a bit painful."

Charlie looked at her face and for the first time saw the redness surrounding her mouth. His face took on a look of horror, and she laughed and kissed him again quickly, then stood up and pulled him with her. "Come on," she said, reaching down for the forgotten wine bottle and glasses, "let's go inside and watch a movie."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Changed the formatting a bit, but it's the same text.**

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Charlie sighed, pushed his hair back, and shook his head to clear it. It was past two on a Friday morning, and he was still in his office at Cal Sci, trying to finish up some work he'd been putting off for the past two weeks that he'd spent wrapped up in another major case for the FBI, but he'd been there since six that morning, and he had the feeling he was reaching the end of his useful brain waves.

He sighed again, dropped the pencil he'd been pushing around the paper in frustration for the past 45 minutes, and pushed back his chair. It was time to call it quits for the night—it was just about time to go home and recharge before he came back in a few hours.

It had been a long two weeks for Amita as well. She came back from her spring break trip to Chennai and immediately had to jump back into her teaching and her astrophysics research, burning the candle at both ends while trying to overcome a severe case of jet lag.

She was completely exhausted, but determined to finish preparing notes for a lecture she would be giving in a few hours, so she left the small office she shared with two other grad students, in search of a vending machine that could provide her with a quick sugar high.

She dug a crumpled dollar bill out of her pocket, fed it to the machine, and selected a pack of M&Ms. The machine whirred and the coil holding the candy spun, but the candy stuck at the last moment, held from falling into the machine's hopper by the corner of the bag.

Frustrated, Amita slapped her hand angrily on the machine in an attempt to knock the candy loose, but then gave up and dropped her head to rest on the machine's glass front, closing her eyes wearily and acknowledging defeat at the hands of technology.

"Hey," a voice came from behind her, and a warm hand descended on her shoulder. She jolted instinctively, but relaxed when she felt Charlie's warm presence behind her, leaning back into him.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her for a moment, his cheek against her hair, and then turned her around in his arms and brought his hand up to gently touch the side of her face in a concerned gesture. "You alright?" Charlie questioned her, seeing the strain and fatigue in her eyes.

Amita nodded, eyes downcast. "Yeah," she replied, pausing for a moment. Then she blew out her breath, and her words poured out. "It's just that I've got so much work to do and I just feel like I'm never going to catch up on it all and Dr. Kepler wants my research data like yesterday but I have to give this lecture in a few hours and I'm just not ready and I'm so tired right now that I don't know if anything I'm doing is going to make sense later on and…"

She trailed off as Charlie's arms tightened around her again, and she closed her eyes and gratefully absorbed his strength and warmth. One hand rubbed gently up and down her back, soothing her, and after a moment, she relaxed against him and just let him hold her.

It'd been far too long since they'd seen each other for more than just a quick bite to eat or a quick pop into his office, and she breathed in deeply and nestled her face against his shirt, enjoying his closeness.

Charlie continued stroking her back and holding her for a long moment, then released her and pulled her back a bit so he could look into her eyes. He read the fatigue and stress in them, and his brow creased. "You look like you could use some sleep, a break, something to take your mind off of all this," he said, smoothing her hair back from her forehead.

She shook her head in irritation. "I can't!" she sighed resignedly, "I have to finish these notes before ten, and then I have to meet with Dr. Kepler, and—"

"Shhh," Charlie commanded, putting his finger to her lips. "You will finish these notes, and then you will go get some coffee, and then you will give your lecture, and then you will go meet with Dr. Kepler. After that, you WILL go home and go straight to bed and not get out of that bed until I call you tomorrow morning. Then I'll come pick you up, and we will get out of here and you will spend an entire day with me, not worrying about work, not worrying about Dr. Kepler, not worrying about your research, just relaxing. That's all."

Amita started to shake her head, but he smiled and put his finger to her lips again. "No, no protesting," he said. "Just say yes."

She stared at him for a moment, and then smiled a tired smile at him and brought her hand up to cup his face, leaning forward to lay her lips against the corner of his mouth. "Yes," she murmured, her breath warm against his scratchy cheek. "It sounds wonderful."

"Great," he murmured back, threading his hand through her hair. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, as something unnamable replaced the fatigue on both their faces.

Charlie kissed Amita softly and then released her, turning around to face the candy machine. He studied it for a minute, and then with his fist hit it quickly on one side. The candy swung once and then dropped into the bin, where he retrieved it, opened it, and shook out some of the brightly colored chocolates into his hand.

He took one between his fingers, and held it up to Amita's lips, and she smiled at him and took it, staring into his eyes as she licked her lips and closed her mouth around the candy. Charlie's own lips parted involuntarily as he watched her enjoy it, and her smile widened as she enjoyed his reaction.

She plucked the bag from his hand and spun around to head back down the hallway, fatigue gone and blood warm from her encounter.

She stopped and looked back over her shoulder, enjoying the sight of him still leaning against the candy machine watching her, his mouth still slightly open. "Tomorrow," she reminded him, "don't forget about me."

Charlie shook his head silently, and as she disappeared down the hallway, he blew his breath out in a long sigh, and then grinned to himself at the thought of an entire day with Amita. Whistling quietly, he headed out of the building to his car.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Changed the formatting a bit, but the story is the same.**

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The next day, Amita was awakened at 11:00 by a ringing phone. She groaned and groped blindly around on her nightstand for the phone, answering it on the fourth ring. "Good morning, sunshine!" Charlie's cheerful voice came through the line to her ear. "You have exactly one hour to get ready, and I will be at your door ready to pick you up for the day. Don't be late!"

Before she had a chance to respond, the line went dead. She opened her eyes and smiled up at the ceiling, then bounced out of bed.

True to his word, Charlie was at Amita's door by noon. She greeted him warmly, grabbed her purse, and bounced out to the curb, where his car was waiting. "Where to first?" she inquired.

"Ahh, but that's for me to know and you to find out," he replied mysteriously.

They hopped on the 110 freeway and headed west, talking animatedly about work and Amita's trip to India, catching up on all they had missed the past two weeks that in which they had both been too busy to exchange more than quick conversation.

"The La Brea Tar Pits?" she asked incredulously, as a parking lot attendant waved them into a space.

"Yeah! Have you ever been here? Dawn of time, early man, animal versus sticky hole in the ground… Did you know that there are actually places right around the museum where tar is still bubbling up through the ground? " Charlie waved his hands around animatedly as he spoke.

Amita captured one of those hands and held it still, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. "Charlie? Thank you. I really needed this today," she said quietly.

"Anytime," he answered her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of happiness. They posed with mammoth tusks, watched a film on prehistoric man, and talked with a group of scientists excavating a pit of animal bones right on-site.

Charlie bought Amita a pencil sharpener shaped like a saber-toothed tiger skull, and Amita bought him a tie pattered with animal bones. Charlie was fascinated by a pool of tar seeping up through a crack in the sidewalk, and managed to get tar on the knees of his jeans and the tips of his fingers before Amita finally tugged him up off the ground.

After the tar pits, they grabbed a late lunch before strolling a block down Wilshire to the LA County Museum of Art. By the time they got out of the art museum, it was getting dark, and they headed back to the car, unwilling for the afternoon to be over.

They climbed into the car, and Charlie turned to look at Amita. "How are you doing? If you're ready to head home, I can take you back, or we…" He trailed off uncertainly.

Amita leaned toward Charlie, taking his head in her hands, kissing him and ending any further argument. "I'm not ready to be done," she murmured against his mouth, kissing him again.

Five long minutes later, they came up for air, and Amita rubbed her hand along his cheek. "I distinctly remember you promising to shave for me," she teased. Charlie grinned at her, eyebrows raised.

"There's always later tonight," he suggested, and received a playful push on the shoulder from Amita. Laughing, he started the car and backed out of the parking space. "So, how do you feel about the Marx Brothers?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Changed the formatting a bit, but story is the same.**

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The door to the Eppes house opened, and Alan came in, shrugging off his coat onto the hook by the door. He heard noise coming from the back of the house, and followed the sound through to the back room, where he found Charlie and Amita curled up together on the couch, glued to a Marx Brothers movie.

Remains of Chinese takeout littered the table in front of them, next to an empty bottle of wine and three DVD boxes. Charlie was stretched out on the couch with Amita nestled up close, her back against him, his face buried in her hair, and his arms around her.

"Duck Soup! Good choice," Alan opined. "Did you know that Paramount actually dropped the Marx Brothers because of this film because they saw it as too political?" Amita smiled up at Alan, but didn't comment, and Charlie just raised his eyebrows at his father, who got the hint.

"Well," Alan said, clearing his throat, "I hope you had a good time at the museum. I'll be heading up to bed now. Good night, you two."

"Good night, Mr. Eppes," called Amita, while Charlie called out, "Good night, Dad."

Charlie listened to Alan's footsteps on the stairs, and waited for the sound of the door closing. Then Amita rolled over and pulled Charlie back on top of her, and they both started giggling, before returning to what they had been doing before Alan walked in—kissing passionately.

A few minutes later, Amita's hands were under Charlie's shirt, lightly scratching his back with her nails, and Charlie's hands were gently stroking Amita's breasts beneath her shirt, when Charlie stopped and pushed himself up, looking down on Amita.

"Amita, would— I mean, do you— I mean, should we…" He trailed off, closing his eyes, and ducking his head. His throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously and waited for her answer. He was so hot and hard and ready, but he didn't want to push things with her, and he wanted to make sure that now was the right time.

Amita stared up at him, eyes huge and dark and hungry. "Charlie, I want you, I want to be with you. Tonight. If you're not ready, I can wait, but I'm ready."

Charlie stared down at her, searching her eyes, then abruptly he jumped up, pulling her with her. "Upstairs," he croaked nervously, gesturing with his head toward the staircase. Amita smiled and followed him up the stairs, her hand on his back.

Charlie's room was like his office—spacious and cluttered. A dark blue bedspread covered the double bed, and an ancient bookshelf sagged under the weight of books stacked every which way. The closet door was half-open, and a pile of laundry spilled out onto the floor.

Charlie flipped on the switch to turn on the bedside light, and cringed. It had looked neat enough this morning when he had changed the sheets and made the bed while thinking hopeful thoughts, but now it just looked… A mess.

Amita looked around and smiled. "So this is the bedroom of the great Dr. Charles Eppes, huh?"

Charlie nodded awkwardly. "I'm sorry it looks like this, I…" Amita silenced him with a kiss, pulling the door shut behind her.

Charlie wrapped his arms around her and concentrated on kissing her deeply. His arms wrapped around her body, stroking her back slowly, reaching down to cup and slowly knead her gorgeous ass.

She murmured an appreciative sound, and pressed herself closer to him, shifting her hips and slowly grinding against his hardness. He groaned, and his hands moved up to the bottom of her blouse. He took hold of the fabric and pulled it up over her head, and she helped him, freeing her hair and shaking it out.

His mouth went dry as the soft bedside light caressed her curves, accented by the lace of her bra, and he just stood there and stared at her for a moment. He was rock-hard and ready to the point of pain—he had waited for this moment for so long, he couldn't believe he was actually here.

Amita smiled at him, and put her hand on his face. "Hey, are you just going to look, or what?" She teased him gently. Then she reached out and began to unbutton his shirt, pausing to lay her hand over his heart for a moment. "Charlie…" She looked into his eyes, dark and hooded with desire, and knew nothing else needed to be said.

Charlie took Amita's hand and led her to his bed. He pulled back the bedspread and sat down, pulling her down with him. Their mouths fused, and their bodies grew hot as they pressed against each other.

Charlie's hands reached around to unclasp Amita's bra, and he bent down and kissed her neck as he removed the bra and dropped it on the floor behind him. She moaned as his thumbs caressed her nipples, and her hands twined in his chest hair, running up and down his front.

Amita's back arched as Charlie's mouth moved lower, and he took one tight little nipple into his mouth. Her hands moved lower, rubbing his hard length through his pants, and he grunted and spread his legs a bit wider to give her better access.

He licked and then gently nibbled on her breast, and her hands moved faster, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching inside. She stroked him for a moment, and felt him shudder with pleasure.

His hands went down to the waistband of her slacks, and he unbuttoned them, and she lifted her bottom to help him remove her pants and underwear, before removing the rest of his clothes. They fell backwards on the bed, naked and hot and ready for each other.

His mouth covered hers, and her hands stroked down his back to cup his butt and bring it closer to her.

Charlie's hand stroked slowly down Amita's body, and came to rest in the warmth between her legs. He slid one long finger into her, and then a second, and her back arched and her breath hitched as he stroked her hotter and hotter.

She reached between them and found Charlie's organ, and wrapped her hand around it, stroking up and down, enjoying the sounds of passion she brought from him. Then her mouth opened and her head fell back as his mouth closed on her nipple again, sucking it as he brought her to a shuddering climax with his fingers. The hand she had wrapped around his hardness loosened as the pleasure overtook her, and her eyes closed in release.

Charlie withdrew his fingers from Amita and kissed her passionately, then rolled off of her, provoking a groan. He reached over and opened his nightstand and pulled out a small foil packet, and when he rolled back over, she plucked it from his fingers and opened the packet.

Taking him in her hands again, she bent over and took him in her mouth briefly, running her tongue around his hard shaft and making his fingers clench in her hair. Then she unrolled the condom over him and moved back up to kiss him.

Charlie rolled over Amita and positioned himself to enter her. He stared deep into her eyes as he slowly parted her lips, and she guided him in. He filled her slowly until he was all the way in, and his jaw clenched with the effort to hold himself back. She was so tight and wet, and they fit together so perfectly.

Her hands went to his hips and held him as he began slowly to move in and out of her, in the dance as old as time. They picked up the rhythm as effortlessly as if they had been lovers for years, increasing in tempo as the passion built.

Charlie's breathing grew heavier as their dance became more and more intense, and Amita's fingers dug into his shoulder and she moaned into his mouth. They drove each other on, her hips rising up to meet each thrust he made into her body.

Her back arched, and her breath was coming in little pants. She was so close, and then Charlie covered her mouth with his and said her name in a low, guttural voice filled with lust and passion, and she came in a wave of heat greater than any she'd ever known.

Charlie felt Amita go over the edge, and he choked out her name again, and then thrust one final thrust deep into her, and followed her into the depths of passion. Spent, he lay on top of her for a moment, catching his breath and feeling her trembles fade away. He rolled to his side and withdrew from her, then simply held her close against his chest, not wanting the moment to end.

Amita could sense the moment Charlie's brain clicked back into gear. His body started to fidget, and his fingers started tracing patterns on her shoulder. She rolled over so she could look into his face, resting her chin on his chest.

"Have somewhere to be right now?" she teased him. His eyes opened wide.

"I didn't mean, I mean… No. I don't. Except for here. Right here." Charlie's arms slid around Amita and drew her up to him, and they shared a long, sweet kiss that ended with Amita reaching down between them to take Charlie into her hands.

"Hmm, feels like you have some unfinished business here, buddy—why don't you go take care of this and come on back here and we'll see if you're sleepy yet," Amita giggled quietly.

"Yeah," Charlie nodded, "right." He quickly hopped out of bed and disposed of the used condom, then crawled back in next to Amita. They cuddled up and pulled the blanket over their head, teasing and talking and touching.

Charlie's low rumble of a laugh mixed with Amita's giggles, and their gentle touches quickly heated. This time their lovemaking was slow, a tender sweetness replacing the fire of their last coupling. Spent, they drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I revised this chapter a bit since the one I posted on 3/17, so you may want to take another look at it.**

**PLEASE review. I hate to beg, but seriously, anything helps.**

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Charlie grunted and pulled the pillow over his head in an attempt the block the light that was trying to sneak in around the edges of his eyelids. He rolled over and became immediately conscious of another body in his bed. His eyes snapped open and he instantly hardened as he realized a very warm and very naked Amita was in bed with him.

He lay in bed for a moment, wondering how this was all going to play out. Would this be awkward or easy? Should he wake her up or let her sleep? What should he say when she did wake up? He desperately wanted to wake her up and resume last night's activities, but he didn't know if the time was right or not.

Emotions and confusion roiled within him as he watched her sleep. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many feelings he had for her, but he didn't know where to begin or how she'd react. He hated the uncertainty, hated that he couldn't quantify or define what it was he was feeling.

A warm tightness clenched Charlie's chest as he watched her, and he blew out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He slowly eased out of bed, looking down at Amita's sleeping form pensively for a moment. Then he bent over and kissed her gently on the forehead. Quietly he slipped on his clothes, shut the blinds to keep the light out, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

His mind was churning as he headed down the staircase and out to the garage. He had some work to do on his cognitive emergence theory, and it would give him time to sort out the night's happenings.

Alan heard his son coming down the staircase, and stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Charlie, I've got pancakes, if you're hungry," he called.

Charlie shook his head and kept walking, not pausing to talk to his father. "No, I've got some work I need to get done right now, Dad. Maybe later."

"Wait wait wait," Alan said, following Charlie. "I want to talk to you."

Charlie turned around, and Alan could see he was agitated. "Dad, I'm sorry, but I really need to go…"

Alan held up a hand. "I just wanted to see how your date with Amita went last night. Things seemed to be going so well when I got home, but you seem like you're bothered by something right now. Is everything OK?"

Charlie squirmed. "Yeah dad, it went fine. In fact, ummm… She's still upstairs." He ducked his head and shifted his weight.

"Wait a minute, she's still upstairs," Alan questioned incredulously, "and you were going to go work in the garage?"

"Well… Yeah," Charlie admitted.

"No no no no," Alan exclaimed. "This is NOT how we treat women! You come into the kitchen, make her coffee, bring it upstairs to her, and then invite her down to breakfast! The pancakes will be ready in about ten minutes. We'll discuss this horrible breach of etiquette later, but go on and get going."

Charlie sighed and turned around, and Alan hurried him out of the room with a swat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Keep on reviewing, folks--I really appreciate it! I'm really enjoying writing this story--I've got about two more chapters to go, and then I think it will be finished.**

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When Charlie opened the bedroom door, cup of coffee in hand, he found Amita awake and nestled in the blankets, her hair a tousled mass on the pillows. He stood there and stared at her, his heart thudding. Wordlessly, she opened her arms to him, and Charlie set the coffee cup on the nightstand and eagerly crawled into bed next to her. 

For a few moments, they just held each other, enjoying each other's closeness. Charlie's hand moved up to Amita's face, and slowly he began to trace the line of her cheek. She enjoyed the feeling, nestling into his shirt, her lips curving in a smile. Her skin tingled where his fingers had trailed, and her heart jumped as his lips touched her temple.

Abruptly Charlie pulled back to look into Amita's eyes. His expression was serious, and Amita watched as he chewed on his bottom lip and swallowed. His thumb stroked across her cheek.

"What do you want, Amita," he asked her softly.

She looked back him, a teasing smile on her face. "What do I want? A million dollars, a trip to Hawaii, world peace? What do you mean?"

"No," he replied, his hooded eyes soft, "what do you want now, a year from now, the rest of your life?"

Amita stared into Charlie's eyes and read the depth of emotion there. Something loosened in her chest, a tightness she hadn't even realized was there. She reached down to find Charlie's other hand and bring it up to her heart, where she held it against her.

"I want to finish my Ph.D. I want to teach, preferably at Cal Sci." She looked down between them, watching their joined hands. "I want… I want to get married. I want to have a family, the house, the dog, the white picket fence. I want—"

"I love you, Amita," Charlie blurted out. Her eyes flew up to his, and Charlie's fingers tightened on hers. "I love you," he repeated, shaking her hand. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, and his lips parted involuntarily as he waited for her response.

Amita released her hand and brought it up to Charlie's face, sliding it through his hair to pull him close. She kissed him twice, once deeply and once on the corner of his mouth. Then she whispered against the corner of his mouth, "I love you too, Charlie. I've loved you for so long that I thought that this day would never come, that I'd never be able to tell you how I feel."

Charlie's breath blew out and arms went around Amita, and he held her tight against him, marveling at what he'd been given. His hand stroked her back as they reveled in the embrace, contemplating the words each other had spoken.

"So what do you want," Amita asked Charlie after a moment, not raising her head from where it lay against his chest."

Charlie smiled, staring at the wall, thoughts focused on the incredible woman cuddled in his arms. "Same as you," he replied slowly. "I want you, I want a family, I want to solve P vs. NP…"

They both laughed quietly, his low rumble mixing with her higher giggle. Grasping both of her wrists, Charlie abruptly rolled her underneath him, causing her to shriek. "Shh," Charlie admonished, grinning and covering her mouth with his.

He touched Amita gently, lovingly, amazed that he was actually holding her and that they had exchanged the words that he had wanted to say for so long, words he'd never spoken to anyone outside of his own family.

Amita's skin heated as Charlie's fingers traced around her breasts, thumbs stroking her and teasing her. He kissed the side of her neck and worked his way down her shoulder, placing small kisses every few inches. When his mouth closed around her nipple and he sucked it gently, her back arched and her mouth opened, releasing a small moan. Her nails lightly raked his shoulders as the sensation rocked her.

She moved her hands down and tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. He quickly shed the shorts he had been wearing, Amita helping him as their hands hurried.

Her hands went to his hips and held him over her, kissing him deeply while his hands caressed her curves. Their breathing quickened and their touches became more urgent as the heat built.

Tracing one hand over his hip, Amita reached down and took him into her hand, hot and hard. She closed her fingers around him and played with him, enjoying as he squirmed and gently bit her shoulder.

"Enough," Charlie said, and pushed halfway off her, reaching over into his nightstand for a condom. He opened the packet and quickly rolled the contents over his hard length. Sliding back onto her, he braced one arm on each side of her and bent his head to kiss her long and hard.

Amita wrapped her legs around Charlie's hips and pulled him down to her. He poised at her entrance, ready to slide into her, when he stopped and raised his head.

"Charlie," Amita questioned, opening her eyes and looking at him questioningly.

"I love you, Amita," Charlie said softly, brushing a lock of hair away from her face and kissing her. "I love you and I treasure you." Then he entered her, head bowed and jaw clenched.

She moaned as he filled her and withdrew, and their pace rapidly quickened. They rocked together, drowning in each other, pushing each other closer and closer. Her breath came in short pants and she clung to him as he drove her up.

Charlie felt her fingers clench on his shoulder as her heat clenched around his, pushing him over the edge. He groaned and shuddered in release, and Amita cried out his name as she reached her own peak.

Sighing, he sunk down on her, enfolding her in his arms, and whispering words of love in her ear. She closed her eyes in contentment and snuggled up against him, and they held each other quietly. On the nightstand, the coffee cooled, forgotten.

In the kitchen, Alan looked at his watch, then looked up at the ceiling. He grinned and covered the plate of pancakes he had made, and set them on the back burner to keep warm.


End file.
